Numeric ID: 2
Date Received: 09 APR 2000
Idea From: Brandy
Email To: brandy_dew@hotmail.com
Written By: Ellen
"Oh," Steve said as he saw me.
"Hi Steve," I warbled, feeling like I'd swallowed a bird or
something. I was looking forward to having a voice back. "What's up?"
He just shook his head for a moment. "I, uh... I came to get some
stuff. Can I come in?"
"Sure," I agreed, and got out of the way enough to let him in. He
came in and immediately went to Jim's bedroom.
I managed to get the door shut, and make it back into the kitchen.
*Yeah, I think I am hungry,* I decided, and pulled an emergency frozen
dinner out of the freezer, peeled the corner back, and stuck it in the
nuker to heat. I was a little too tired to stand up and wait for it,
though, so I went and sat down at the table.
A few minutes later, the nuker beeeeeeeeeped and turned off. I got
up and was going to go in and get my lunch, but some weird noise from
Jim's bedroom caught my attention.
It almost sounded like a dog or something. Which was weird,
because we didn't have a dog. Then I thought, *Oh, no, please don't let
Steve have gotten a puppy for Jim or something like that,* because one
of the reasons we didn't have a dog in the place is that it wouldn't
have a place to go to the bathroom (several other reasons involved the
unbelievable pet deposit, the furniture which would not take well to
either puppy-chewing or 'mistakes', and not wanting to be responsible
for it if either of us took off for a week or something).
So I felt I had to go in right away and make sure it wasn't a dog.
When I opened the door, though, all thought of dog went right outta my
head, because Steve was sitting on the bed, and the noise I'd heard was
him crying.
"Steve?!"
He snapped to, like I'd scared the stuffing out of him, and glared
at me. "Sorry, I'll leave," he said, sniffling, and he got up to go.
This made absolutely no sense to me at all.
I guess I was getting a lot better, because much of the past week
hadn't made sense to me and I'd ignored it, but this time it pissed me
off, and I blocked him as he tried to get out of the bedroom. "Uh uh,"
I told him, "you gotta tell me what's going on. Steve?" He really
looked kind of sick, and his eyes were red, and he wouldn't look at me.
"Look, just let me go," he told me, still not looking at me. "I'm
sorry I came here-"
"What the hell are you talking about?" He WAS making my head hurt;
I hadn't had a headache until just now, and it was starting to grow.
"Is something wrong with, between you and Jim?"
THAT got him to look at me, with this incredulous expression that
almost made me laugh out loud. His mouth worked without saying
anything for a while, then he forced out, "YOU'RE asking ME that?!" like
it was the most incredibly stupid thing in the world.
"Well, I mean, you came in here and you were crying," I explained,
feeling sort of defensive. "So I thought-"
"Oh this is rich," he snapped, sounding angry. "Really, this is so
rich. Do you," and now he looked at me again, and he was almost
spitting, he was so angry, "I mean, do you have ANY fucking decency at
ALL? Just let me the hell out of here!"
He started to push past me, and I knew somehow that if he got out
of the apartment without explaining whatever-it-was to me, that it would
really fuck things up between him and Jim, and I had to know what it
was. So I grabbed his belt from behind and just dropped to the floor,
that being about all the fight I had energy for.
We both went down, like I expected, since he was about the same
size I was, and I thought he might twist over and start pounding on me,
but he just curled up into a defensive ball, like an armadillo, and
started to hiccup.
It still wasn't making any sense.
"No WAY, dude!" I said, really REALLY hating the fact that my voice
had no authority at all in it when it was jumping around like it was.
"Now tell me what's going on or I'll pound you!"
It was an idle threat - I might have been able to hit him twice and
then fall on top of him, but that was about it - but he believed me.
"Look," he gasped, like he was really exercising, "all I wanted to do
was get some of my stuff out of here and go, and leave you two alone,
okay? That's all I wanted!"
"'Us two'? Me and, Jim? But his dad left... didn't he?"
Now he looked at me again, this time uncertainly. "What? What are
you talking about?"
"What are YOU talking about?" I asked back.
"You and Jim," he said, like that explained things.
Eventually, I said, "We're roommates, Steve. So?"
"Yeah, and when his dad got here, you and him got into bed and
forgot I even existed!" he sort of lurched, and then he started to cry.
Girls always make fun of guys because supposedly we can't handle
girl's tears, but it was a lot easier for me to deal with a crying girl
than a crying guy. I dunno why, but it was. So I was kind of messed
up, sitting there watching Steve just let loose, like he was a little
kid or something. I mean, he was letting it all hang out. And it was
my fault. Sort of.
Eventually, I got enough of my brain working to crawl over to the
bedside table and grab the tissues, and then crawl back to Steve and pet
him and stuff. I'd sort of decided to treat him like a crying girl for
several really unclear reasons, and so I tried to cuddle him and rock
him and things like that. I guess it worked; he stopped eventually.
"Look, Steve," I told him when things had tapered off eventually.
"I don't know what you're talking about! I mean, yeah, I was in his
bed, but it would have looked kind of funny to be in mine, when I was
supposed to be dating him! I mean, in Jim's roommate's bed?"
"But you and him, I mean, at County Line," he countered.
"Me and him where?"
"You and Jim and his dad went to County Line, remember?" he
explained, like he'd been there and I hadn't. Of course, I sort of
hadn't, even though I had.
"Is that where it was?" I asked without thinking.
He gave me this weird look, and sat up. "Don't you remember?"
"I remember going out to eat, but not where it was," I told him
truthfully. "So, I guess that was where. So?"
Steve took a breath and looked away. "So, a friend of mine saw you
three there, and he said that you and Jim were acting just like total
breederspawn," which is fag speak for 'normal heterosexual'. "Kissing
and stuff, and eating off each other's plates and stuff, and-"
"Wait wait wait," I snapped. "And you think that meant something?"
Now he looked like I felt. "Doesn't it?" he finally asked.
"Hell no!" I said back. "It was part of the girlfriend thing, the
act we were putting on for his dad! That's why I did all the girl stuff
in the first place! Remember?" I THOUGHT he'd been in on the plan, but
maybe not...
"Well, yeah," he admitted, which shot my idea to shit.
"But..." Steve continued, "I mean, what was the kissing for?"
"Well, we, I mean Jim and Stephanie, were supposed to be dating for
a while, right? When did Jim tell his dad about her?" I couldn't
remember; things were getting fuzzy again.
"Um, back in February or something," he said, and sort of smiled.
"Valentine's Day." Oh, yeah, I should have remembered. Something about
a big bunch of roses appearing right when Jim was on the phone, and his
dad wanted to know who they were from.
"Right, so...." I needed to lie down, so I did, staring up at the
ceiling. When the dizziness went away, I thought for a second and
started talking again. "So if Steffie and Jim had been dating that
long, and she felt good enough about him to come and live with him when
she was sick, then it had to be kind of serious, right? I mean, you
wouldn't move in with your boyfriend when you were sick unless you
didn't mind him seeing you like that, and it would be like if it was
better to be with him than alone." My body was starting to float off
the floor, which was kind of cool, but it made it hard to keep track of
what I was saying. "Um." I forced my body back to the floor and
concentrated hard. "So, like, if her and Jim were that serious,
wouldn't they kiss sometimes?"
"But, I mean, eating together?" he kind of scoffed.
"Was I supposed to get a separate table?" I scoffed back.
"No, I mean, him feeding you and you feeding him and stuff," he
said.
"What? We didn't do that! Well," I amended, "not there. He fed
me here, once, but that was because I couldn't really do it myself. You
remember feeding him, right?"
"Yeah," he agreed cautiously.
"Well, he was doing that here for me, once..." I tried to remember
going out. "Um... all I did at the restaurant was fall against him and
stay there, and then I ate some of his dessert."
"What?"
I sighed. "I was so tired," which I was sick of being. Tired, I
mean. "And he put his arm behind my seat, and then it was just easier
to lean up against him than anyplace else, when I couldn't sit up by
myself any more."
Steve sniffed, then spent some time blowing his nose and other
things. I spent the time with my eyes shut, trying not to spin around
on the floor like part of me wanted to.
"Brad?" someone asked eventually, and my eyes popped open. That
was a mistake, because everything tilted and whirled, and I tried to be
violently sick, but all that came up was some indeterminate liquid and
bile. when I finished puking, I realized that I could have inhaled
everything and died, and then I wouldn't be in torment any more, but it
was too late.
I dropped back to the floor, and lay there for some time - I just
went blank, so it could have been seconds or days - before I could open
my eyes again. I'd thought that I'd thrown up on the floor, but there
was a trash can in front of my face, and the carpet didn't look wet.
*Oh, good,* I thought happily, and closed my eyes again.
"Brad?" someone asked.
This time I remembered not to open my eyes. "Uh?" I said instead.
"Come on, let's get you back into bed," Steve said, and then he was
helping me up and into Jim's bed. When I was horizontal and he let go,
I went blank again. He was wiping my mouth when I came back this time,
so I made him help me blow my nose - more acid burns up there, lovely -
and wash my mouth out before I dropped back into a coma. The last thing
I thought, and I was really pissed about it too, was, *I thought I was
getting BETTER damnit!*
I woke up, feeling really horrible, and I thrashed around in bed
for a few before I could get out and make it to the bathroom. Cool
water helped me feel a little bit better, as did washing my mouth out,
and a whole handful of assorted pills.
I was heading back to bed when I remembered what had gone on
earlier. "Steve?" I tried to call, but it hurt so much to talk I don't
have any idea what came out.
It got his attention though, because he came in the bedroom while I
was still gulping water to try and ease the pain. "Brad?" he asked, and
I nodded, but I still couldn't talk.
Steve waited until I got done, for the moment, and then madme turn
around and look at him. "You have to answer me truthfully, Brad. I
know you can't talk, so just nod or whatever." I nodded and
concentrated on him.
He took a deep breath, let it out, tok another... finally, he got up
the 'nads to actually talk. "Are, are you and Jim, involved?"
That was a definite 'NO!' so I shook my head. He held me up when I
lost my balance and started to topple sideways.
"You're sure?" I nodded, gently this time. "Where's Jim?" *Like
I have any fucking idea!* I wanted to scream, but the pain of that would
kill me instantly. Or worse, it wouldn't. I shrugged my shoulders
instead.
"So you and Jim aren't..." I waited for him to finish, because I
was afraid I would tack on the wrong ending, and answer a different
question than he meant. "You two aren't getting it on?" I grabbed on
to his shoulder before I shook my head this time, and it helped.
"Really?"
I was getting tired of this, so I glared at him and gave him an
Italian wassamattayou upside his head.
"Oh, God," he breathed, and hugged me like he meant it. "I was so
scared, and, and..." And blow me down if he didn't start to cry again.
I wanted to kick him - he was holding me away from the bed, damnit! -
but I managed to push him in that direction, and we both ended up on the
bed shortly, where I could mostly relax as he cried in my arms. I tried
not to fall asleep, but I knew it wasn't really going to work, and it
didn't.
He woke me up when he started to move, and he smiled at me when I
could see his face again, so I smiled back. He leaned forward, and
kissed me on the forehead, and told me to close my eyes and rest, so I
did. Zzzzz.
When I woke up again, it was because he was coaxing me out of bed
and to the dining room, wherein rested something he'd cooked. I could
smell it, and it smelled good. I dimly followed him, and almost tripped
at the turn, and he managed to catch me-
Right as Jim opened the door. I looked up, as did Steve, and Jim
came in and shut the door behind him before he saw us. And he pointed,
and laughed, and laughed....
It took me a while, but I figured it out later. Steve had called
Jim and left a message on some voicemail somewhere - I think it's Jim's
pager - all full of noble stuff about not wanting to get between us and
blah blah blah, and Jim had been running around trying to find Steve for
a couple of hours. And when he gave up and came home, what does he find
but his boyfriend holding his supposed rival (me) in his arms?
I'm glad I figured this out in bed, after dinner. At that point,
they had gotten rid of me and locked Jim's bedroom door, which was fine
with me. I'd had enough of weird relationship problems. It was enough
to make me glad I was single.
That didn't last long, but that's another story...